Only Human
by whimsycality
Summary: An unexpected influence seeks power in the wake of Tess's departure. Liz POV, no pairings, oneshot.


**Title:** Only Human  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> All of Roswell is up for grabs though it seriously differs from canon**  
>Category:<strong> AA/AU**  
>Rating:<strong> Teen  
><strong>Pairings:<strong> None**  
>Summary:<strong> An unexpected influence seeks power in the wake of Tess's departure. Liz POV. Oneshot**  
>Warning:<strong> A bit dark and twisty, not what you would call a happy ending. Originally written as part of a challenge with the prompt: Corruption.**  
>Disclaimer:<strong> The characters of Roswell belong to Jason Katims, Melinda Metz, WB, and UPN. They are not mine and no infringement is intended.

**A/N:** This was written as a oneshot and I have no current plans to do more, but there is the possibility that my muse (who just loves the idea of an evil, or at least inhuman, Liz) will demand to do one or more oneshots as a followup, so we shall see.

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><p><em>Corruption never has been compulsory. – Anthony Eden<em>

It started the day after Tess blasted through the atmosphere with Max's bastard child – a whispering voice in the back of her head that offered her the chance to change things, _fix_ things, the chance to mold the world to her will. The silent words left her breathless, aching, angry. But as tempting as some of the offers were, she resisted. She knew where the voice came from; the alien entity that the others thought was just a device, a device that Tess had supposedly left in.

Liz knew better.

When she had flung herself into the cave, hands scraped raw from pounding on the unresponsive stone, desperate to stop them from leaving, she had felt the foreign energy creeping over her skin, seeking a way inside. The energy had been sentient, malevolent, not some mindless alien technology that you could control with a few crystals. No, the Granilith had _Power_ with a capital P, and it had terrified her, all the more so since no one else seemed to feel it. If the situation hadn't been so dire, she would have turned around and fled back the way she came the moment after stepping into the oppressive space.

A week later, the dreams started. The being showed her incredibly detailed, cruelly _real_ images of Alex alive, happy and laughing, of her and Max together and in love, King and Queen of a powerful alien court. It showed her Tess, on her knees, crying and bleeding, begging for mercy. It was the last image that woke her shaking, stomaching churning as she fought the urge to be messily sick on her bedroom floor.

Part of her _wanted_ to see the blonde hybrid like that, wanted to see her in pain, wanted to _cause_ that pain. But the rest of her knew to be wary of any entity that included torture as part of its seduction technique, no matter how much her eyes burned with tears as she recalled the other things, the other wonderful things, it had shown her.

Every fairytale she'd loved as a child had taught her not to trust something faceless, not to trust anything that offered power with no price, because the hidden cost would be more than you were willing, or able, to pay. It was why she had turned to science, something straightforward and logical, full of questions and answers and mysteries that didn't threaten your very soul.

But science couldn't fix this, and those fairytales didn't mention how hard every single moment without your best friend was. The stories hadn't described how guilty she felt every time she visited his grave and _knew_ she could bring him back.

How could she not risk everything for the boy who'd been so loyal, so true to their friendship, that he'd followed her right into death's arms?

The voice picked up a smug tone, a sense of amused patience, because it knew, just as she did, that it was only a matter of time before she gave in. That was the one thing the stories got right.

Finally, three weeks after Tess's departure, after Max's seventh attempt to apologize, and after her sixth attempt to forgive him that was aborted as she stared into his once enticing amber eyes and only saw the blue eyes of her dead best friend, and the blue eyes of his killer, she drove to the pile of rubble in the middle of the desert.

Stepping out of her dad's truck onto the desolate red dirt, she carefully skirted the largest of the stones, her hair stinging her cheeks as it whipped back and forth in the harsh wind that did nothing to cool the unbearable heat. Halfway around the mess of destruction, she spotted something glowing, dark pulsating energy barely visible inside a crevice formed by three rocks impossibly balanced against each other.

She closed her eyes, breathing in the arid smell of the desert, images, both real and promised, flashing across the insides of her eyelids as her heartbeat echoed in her ears. Opening them after a moment, she reached inside the dark space without hesitation and wrapped her hand around the crystal contained within, wincing when its sharp edges sliced her hand, and then screaming as the energy crawled inside her wound, a burning fire that boiled her blood and filled her body to the brim until she thought only ash would be left.

After the energy had run its course, Liz Parker rose to her feet, dark eyes gleaming with otherworldly power, lips curled into a malicious smirk, and flexed her fingers, curling them experimentally into fists, idly noting the innocent pink nail polish and changing it to crimson with a single thought. "Oh yes, this will do quite nicely."


End file.
